I’m sure I’ve written about this before. So, move along if you’ve already heard it. I do not understand this cultural change to texting as a primary form of communication in dating relationships. Well, I shouldn’t say I don’t understand it. It’s easy. It’s available. It’s tempting. And we really don’t have a lot of self-discipline, do we?
Yesterday I was running, and one of my favorite all-time songs played on Pandora.
“Farmer’s Daughter” by Rodney Atkins
I can never get enough of this song. In fact, I’m listening to it over and over right now. The tune is catchy if you like country twang, and I do, but what I love most about this song is its story. Country music is not afraid to talk about those everyday miracles that happen when people and nature interact. The first time I heard this song, I was sucked right in to how I would feel when I found out the new worker on my father’s farm was a hot, young thing who had an eye for me. Every time I hear it I get swept away on the urgency of wanting somebody so bad that I need to sneak out and steal every minute I can. And, there’s nothing like an urge like that when you see the same urge in your lover’s eyes. If he can’t work or sleep because he wants to be with you, there is nothing sexier.
Yeah… you might say that’s teenage love. If you don’t believe that happens when you are 50, then you must be married and have been that way for a very long time. It’s happened to me several times since I’ve been out of my 20s. In fact, it’s happened in the last 3 years. Love, infatuation, and the whirlwind is not discriminatory based on age or experience. Yes, I know it’s not everything, and I know it doesn’t last. But, it is the stuff that attracts me to dating. I WANT THAT. I want to be swept away. I want to see, feel, and touch the person that is so hot for me that he can’t stand that he has to be at work 8 hours a day. I want to have an urge so bad to be in his presence that I totally forget my 9 o’clock bedtime. When I’m in that state, I can’t sleep anyway, so why not get all tangled up to pass the time.
Today’s constant communication doesn’t have the ooomph that builds desire in new relationships. The whole reason our bodies go crazy when we meet somebody that attracts us is that it creates an urgency for us to be together. The hormones urge us to connect, to mate, to see this thing through. Texting gives the impression that we are connecting, but we aren’t. In fact, it affects me exactly the opposite. It feels cold. It gives me the impression that a man is lazy or not interested enough to want to hear a woman’s voice. Constant texting gives me the same feeling that I get when a mosquito is buzzing around my head when I’m trying to have fun. And, if I don’t know the texter in question, I’m usually going to get irritated with him. I don’t know his sense of humor. I don’t know his intentions. I don’t even really know if he’s single. It doesn’t take long for me to lose interest.
I’ve started to set boundaries around texting when I’m getting to know someone. I’m an extrovert, and I’m looking for human connection. I’m so irritated that I have to train 50 year old men to relate. Texting is not dating. When I ask my friends if they are dating somebody, inevitably they answer that they are texting a few guys right now, but no… they are NOT dating. Then they roll their eyes. We are stuck in a world where men can’t seem to push that green button to call you, but they want to see pictures of your boobs. I guess that’s why sexting has become so popular. Texting is so boring and uninteresting that you have to spice it up. We live in a bizarre, disconnected world.
I read two articles this morning in my search for whether or not I’m being picky or if this texting thing is really a relationship-killer. EHarmony agrees and suggests that people draw boundaries on texters. And, even Evan Katz urges women to teach mean to call instead of text. He says that “Texting must be the icing; it can’t be the cake.” There is a magic that happens between a man and a woman when they lock eyes. Even a phone call provides a sexy voice, a laugh and a hint of a smile. Why aren’t men hungry for that anymore? I know I’m starving for it.